


Fleeting Fate

by cinnamonbunboii (casbackwardstie)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Loss, Worry, being rushed, steve rogers soulmate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbackwardstie/pseuds/cinnamonbunboii
Summary: The Red String of Fate is said to be something only the two people intertwined can see. When born, a red string is wrapped around your finger. This red string leads to your soulmate. Upon meeting, only then will the red string unravel and disappear.





	Fleeting Fate

Steve never thought the day would come. Not when he had awoken from a coma, not when he had been fighting the aliens, not even when he first learned of what the Red String of Fate meant. “Yo, Cap, come on!” Steve shakes his head; he’d been zoning out while maneuvering his way through the crowd. Following his companions, Steve decides to keep a close eye on them as well as their surroundings; the citizens bustling about in the airport. Just pick up the intel and then we’re out of here, Sam’s voice rings in his head: repeat the mission, ingrain the mission into your mind and act towards your goal until it’s completed, Steve tells himself.

It’d become second nature, keeping his head down, scanning for watchful eyes or curious faces as this new team they’d formed had been operating in the dark. Steve was quick with his movements, always one step ahead; skate around people and never make eye contact. Nastaha was further ahead, almost to their target, ready to negotiate prices for the intel they currently needed. Natasha was good with negotiation; Sam and Steve were only there for backup if needed.

The clock is ticking, fifteen minutes at most is their goal, only twelve minutes remaining for their discussion and to quickly slip out of the airport. Tapping his foot nervously on the tiled floors, Steve glances around at the bar to his right, the flight directory to his left, above Natasha and their informant. No one seems to notice, no one seems to be paying them a second glance. Clock’s ticking, time’s running out, foot’s tapping. Eleven minutes and thirty-one seconds remain.

* * *

You’re anxious, your gate changed last minute to another wing of the airport. It’s bustling, it’s crowded and the air smells of greasy food and bleach. Coughing, rolling wheels, and the rushed footfalls of hurried passengers drown out your thoughts. The only thing you can feel is your heart pumping faster than it had been before. Eyes shifting to the people around you; Giving them a once-over before your gaze flicks to the ticket in your hand, currently grasping the handlebar of your suitcase rather tightly. “I’m gonna be late!” You nervously murmur to yourself before the person in front of you gets off the walking conveyor belt. Deciding it worthwhile to start speed-walking to your gate, you search above for the upcoming signs that will lead you to your destination.

* * *

Sighing out of relief, Steve nods in the direction of his companions; yes, now is the best time for them to make their getaway. Following their lead, Steve quickly walks to spare any chances their informant has to snitch on them. Making their way back toward the main section of the airport, Steve makes sure to stay close, maneuvering around people. Four minutes and forty-three seconds until they’d be open to capture.

* * *

Breathing fast, you’re en route to your gate, suitcase trailing beside you; all is going according to plan. You’ll be fine. You still have time. It’s okay. You remind yourself there’s no need to stress out needlessly, a hard habit to break. Sneaking another glance down to memorize the gate number, a stone wall smacks into you. A gasp emits from your throat as you stumble, turning around to glare at the perpetrator. Attention brought away from the person, you watch as the red string attached to your finger begins to unravel. The path is clear as day: the Red String of Fate connects you to whomever you bumped into. Eyes flicking from your fingers to his face, his hand comes up to grasp your forearm, a worried look upon his face. “You’re…” the man cuts you off with his finger against his mouth in a ‘shush’ position, “my soulmate.” Your heart feels like it stops as you inspect his face, his eyes, the weird tingly feeling in your belly.

“I have to go- I really-” you decide it’s your turn to cut him off.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” Your hearts starts to clench at the realization of what he meant. ‘I have to go.’ Those are the first words he has ever said to you.

“I promise I’ll find you again.” His hand squeezes your forearm for a moment before he turns and rushes off, not sparing a second glance in your direction. Feeling somehow emptier in only the seconds after he leaves; your chest wracks with a dull pain. ‘I’ll find you again.’ You were stunned. Your whole life, everyone has built up the Red String of Fate to be some sort of miracle; a beautiful, uniting moment in everyone’s lives where they finally get the chance to meet their destined beloved. Everyone wants to meet their soulmate… right? Confusion and hurt fill your veins as random strangers bump into you. The tardiness of your presence on the plane now brought back to your attention, you take the first step towards the rest of your life. Taking each step towards the plane, you feel a part of you get further and further away. Thoughts flood your mind as you sit in the lounge waiting for your flight.

You don’t know what to make of what happened, but, you know that you no longer have a red string wrapped around your finger. There is no more anticipation of meeting your soulmate; rather, you’re waiting for them to find you again. The intercom chimes; a voice announces that the flight to Wakanda is boarding. Your decision is made: you will find your soulmate first. Whether you give them a piece of your mind or decide if they are worthy of embracing, your journey is set in front of you.


End file.
